


Loss of Tension

by spiralmaiden



Category: No. 6 (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Massage, domesticity porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-04
Updated: 2013-03-04
Packaged: 2017-12-04 06:22:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/707532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiralmaiden/pseuds/spiralmaiden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The "dreadful" consequence of sitting in one place for too long.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Loss of Tension

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place in some vague time after the series and after Nezumi returns. Because he will. :/

The sickening snap of grinding cartilage cut through the silence like a whipcrack.  
  
Shion winced. He hadn’t realized just how long he’d been sitting like that until he’d tilted his head just so and that grisly noise had made him (and the room’s other occupant) jump. Behind him, he could hear Nezumi uncurling from his reading repose. A moment later, his hand was resting on Shion’s shoulder, making him more keenly aware of the dull burn of tension that crept over his back. He clenched his teeth against it. “Mmph!”  
  
“They say you’re supposed to take a break to stretch every hour,” said Nezumi, his voice a warm drawl by Shion’s ear.  
  
“You say that like I didn’t have to sit through that health seminar at work,” said Shion.  
  
“Oh, the one where you had to sit for three hours with no break? Fat lot of good that did.”  
  
The hand on his shoulder flexed and released, thoughtfully. Shion instinctively leaned into that short squeeze. “Ah …”  
  
Nezumi tsked. “You’re in bad shape.” He reached down, guided Shion up by his elbows and started nudging him away from his desk and across the room.  
  
“Nezumi, what—”  
  
“Gonna take care of that. On the bed.” Shion was unceremoniously fluffed belly-down on the mattress, and the clipped commands continued. “Arms up.” He was stripped of his shirt, and then Nezumi settled himself, straddling the back of Shion’s thighs. In a display Shion knew was purely for show, Nezumi cracked his knuckles loudly in preparation.  
  
“It’s bad to do that, you know,” said Shion, his voice muffled by his cheek pressed against the comforter.  
  
“Thanks for the newsflash, genius. Shh. I need to concentrate.”  
  
Shion shivered, partly from the slight chill of his skin being bared and partly from anticipation, before Nezumi’s fingers dug in. It was only a matter of seconds until Shion was moaning appreciatively, long and low. 

Nezumi's hands were deft ones that could maitenence robots and apply eyeliner and play the piano and wield a knife. Shion could appreciate all of those things, but in truth he appreciated their deftness the most when they were on him directly. It felt like he was gently wringing the bones from Shion’s body, and it was better than the best warming bath. “Ah, Nezumi, you’re amazing.”  
  
Nezumi chuckled. “What for?”  
  
“Well, I didn’t know you were good at this too.”  
  
“You’re awfully fast and loose with that word, 'amazing,'” said Nezumi. “Besides, you think this is the sort of talent I should go public with? I’m not just going to give backrubs to anyone, you know.”  
  
He was using the heels of his palms on Shion’s lower back now, and the image of his mother making bread rose unbidden before his eyes. He shook with laughter for a moment before Nezumi dug his knees into the sides of his thighs.  
  
“Stop squirming. What’s so funny?”  
  
“I was thinking of the best technique for kneading—”  
  
A hand planted on the back of his head pushed him face-first into the bed. “What have I told you about thinking too much, Shion."

Shion’s answer was of course completely incomprehensible. He struggled a little, really starting to miss fresh air, when his neck popped again. Nezumi sighed and went back to massaging. His thumbs circled between Shion’s spine and shoulder blades and eased the tender muscle there. Shion couldn’t help a delighted groan, now that he could breathe.  
  
Nezumi must have been pleased with his work, because as he made his way back down Shion’s back he began to hum. The shapeless notes started to take on substance. Shion tried to hold his breath, afraid to show any sign of having noticed, but then Nezumi’s hands drew another deep, contented sigh from him.  
  
The melody unfurled like textiles drying on the line in the sun. It was a song of home, a song of belonging. Shion felt boneless, floating, awash in a dream. Under Nezumi’s hands, his voice ringing in his ears, even the sinews of Shion's heart finally completely relaxed. They had been drawn tight with longing for so long, stretched across the distance between them. But he was home now. They were home.  
  
A kiss dropped on the back of Shion’s neck where the scar twisted. He blinked, realizing the singing had stopped. Now nails were running lightly against his skin. The mood of the touches had changed. Shion gave a wiggle and rolled over under Nezumi, his eyes wide with curiosity. He titled his head and this time there wasn’t a sound.  
  
“You drifted off,” said Nezumi. His eyes were warm like fresh ash. “You must be pretty relaxed.”  
  
“It isn’t often I get to unwind this completely these days,” said Shion.  
  
“You say that like I’m not here to witness and deal with it personally,” said Nezumi. He shook his head in amusement.  
  
Shion reached up and caught Nezumi’s cheek. “But you are.” The feeling of Nezumi’s nails were lingering on his back, making him arch a little hungrily into the now-familiar weight above him. “So, Nezumi …”  
  
“Is there something else I can help you with, your highness?”  
  
“Something else you wouldn’t do for just anyone.” Shion paused, looking heavenward in feigned innocence. “I hope.”  
  
Nezumi smiled wryly at the joke. “I think I can take care of that.” And he covered Shion’s mouth with his own.


End file.
